THE night is dark and warm and very still, Only the moon goes pallid and alone; The moon and I the whole wide heavens fill, And all the earth lies little, lost, unknown. I walk along the byways of my Soul, Beyond the streets where all the world may go, Until at last I reach the hidden goal Built up in strength where only I may know. For in my Soul a temple have I made, Set on a height, divine and steep and far, Nor often may I hope those floors to tread, Or reach the gates that glimmer like a star. O secret, inner shining of my dream, How clear thou risest on my soul to-night! Forth will I fare and seek the heavenly beam, And stand within the precincts of the light. And I will press beyond the curtain'd door, And up the empty aisle where no one sings; There will I fall before thee and adore, And feel the shadowy winnowing of thy wings. So will I reach thee, Spirit; for I have known Thy voice, and looked upon thy blinding eyes; And well thou knowest the world to me is grown One dimness whence thy dreamy beacons rise. Nor ask I any hope nor any end, That thus for thee I dream all day, all night; But, like the moon along the skies, I wend, Knowing no world below my borrowed light. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WINSOME WEE THING by ROBERT BURNS THE SONG OF THE SHIRT by THOMAS HOOD IN WILTSHIRE; SUGGESTED BY POINTS OF SIMILARITY WITH THE SOMME COUNTRY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN TIME'S CHANGES, FR. THE ART OF POLITICS by JAMES BRAMSTON AN EPICED ON MR. FISHBOURNE by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |